


The Sleeping Giant

by pigeonking



Series: The Chronicles of Mord [4]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Folklore, Horror, Monsters, Vikings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 08:40:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16829017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pigeonking/pseuds/pigeonking
Summary: Do not disturb the sleeping giant... ;)





	The Sleeping Giant

“Do you think we can stop fucking running now?” Goren asked his brother, Sven as they finally reached the foothills at the bottom of Giebmegaisi mountain. “I feel like my lungs are going to explode out of my chest!”

“Aye, I think so.” Sven nodded breathlessly. “I don’t think anyone is chasing us anymore.”

Sven and Goren Erikson were twin brothers. Their favourite joke was that Odin had liked the mold that made them so much that he had used it twice.

They were also thieves and they had just relieved a particularly wealthy merchant of two chests of silver. His slaves had pursued them for a lot longer than they had anticipated, no doubt driven by the fear of being whipped should they return to their master empty handed, but having no horses they had tired eventually and the two burly brothers had left the poor serfs behind.

Now they made their way up into the foothills of Giebmegaisi.

“We need to find somewhere we can stash these where no one will find them.” Sven was saying. “We’re going to look mighty conspicuous walking around with these otherwise.”

Goren nodded in agreement.

“We can just take what we need out of the chests as and when we need it.” He said. “If we’re sensible with our spending then this little haul should last us a good couple of months at least!”

Sven snorted a derisive laugh. “You’ve got to be joking? With all the whores you’ll be bedding and the mead you’ll be drinking, you’ll be lucky if it lasts you two weeks, let alone months!”

They carried on climbing higher in silence as they searched for the perfect place to hide their ill-gotten gains, grateful for the fur cloaks and lined boots that they wore. The further up the mountain they went the colder it got and they could feel a powerful, bone chilling breeze that made them long for shelter and the warmth of a good fire.

Eventually they came to what appeared to be two adjacent caves that looked like they might run deep into the mountain. The entrances were ever so slightly over grown with some sort of green mossy lichen that glistened like morning dew and felt slimy beneath Goren’s fingers when he touched it as he leaned into the cave to try and get a good look inside.

“I can’t see bugger all in there, but it looks like it goes down for miles.” He reported to his brother. “I reckon here would be as good a place as any to stash our hoard.”

“Listen to you!” Sven stifled another laugh. “Hoard, he says! Do you think we should go and try and find a dragon to sit on it for us?”

“Shut the fuck up and help me stick the chests in here.” Goren chided good-naturedly. “We’ll stick one in here and the other in this one here, that way if one gets found then at least we’ll still have the other one.”

Sven dutifully entered the second cave to hide his chest whilst Goren did the same with his in the first.

“You’re a daft bugger, I’ll give you that.” Sven goaded his brother. “If one gets found then why wouldn’t the other? Why would they look in one cave, but not bother to look in the second one?”

“They might be so excited by the prospect of what they find in the first cave that they might not spare the other one a second thought.” Goren suggested.

“Or they might think, ‘ooh I found me some treasure in this cave. I wonder what’s in that one over there!’ You bloody idiot!” Sven chuckled.

“Well, I guess that’s a risk we’ll just have to take.” Goren replied stubbornly.

Once the two chests had been successfully hidden the brothers decided to take a rest and some shelter in one of the caves, building a small fire for themselves out of some dry twigs that had been strewn about outside.

The chilling breeze that had assailed them upon their ascent of the mountain seemed most prevalent in and around the entrances of these caves. It was as if the wind was blowing one way and then the other. In and out, in and out again, like it couldn’t make up its mind which way to blow.

Sven and Goren had to position themselves around their small fire in such a way so that it wouldn’t get snuffed out like a candle.

“It’s a shame that we haven’t got a rabbit or three to cook on this fire.” Goren grumbled, almost as loudly as his stomach. “I’m fucking starving!”

“Once we’ve rested we’ll take some of our silver and go down the mountain to the next village. We’ll fill our bellies well enough then.” Sven assured him.

“I’m not sure that my belly can wait that long!” Goren complained. “It’s a good thing you’re my brother, otherwise I might try eating you!”

“Aye, not if I eat you first you wouldn’t! But you’d probably taste like troll shit anyways!” Sven chortled.

“I happen to think that my flesh would be most flavoursome, thank you. Quite gamey and rich and good with a nice gravy!” Goren countered.

“How the fuck would you know that? Have you ever tasted yourself?” Sven chided him.

“Well there was that one time that I accidentally bit the inside of my own cheek and I swear I swallowed a great chunk of myself. I swear to Thor that if it hadn’t hurt so much I might have done it again because I tasted bloody great!” Goren assured him.

“Well I’ll certainly bear that in mind if we ever find ourselves in desperate times.” Sven winked at him. 

There was another low rumble, but this time it wasn’t Goren’s stomach.

“Did you feel that?” Sven asked shakily.

“Feel what?” Goren threw back at him with his characteristically blank expression.

“It felt like Thor stubbing his toe on Mjolnir.” Sven told him.

“I didn’t feel anything.” Goren shrugged.

And then the entire cave seemed to shake. Flaming embers from the fire were tossed like leaves in a thunderstorm and the two brothers sprang to their feet to avoid catching fire, stumbling out of the cave as they did so for fear that it may tumble down upon them at any second.

As the ground shook beneath their feet the rumbling noise from before reverberated around them like the convulsions of a giant landed eel in its death throes.

“We’ve got to get back down the mountain!” Sven urged as he began to retreat back the way they had come.

Goren made to follow his brother, but then, without warning, the cragged surface of the ground yawned open right under where he stood and before he could find better purchase with his feet he found himself plummeting into the murky depths below.

“Sven, help me!” was all he had time to say before he disappeared into the darkness, his last words echoing in his wake.

Sven turned and ran back to the newly opened chasm, throwing himself flat on the ground to peer over the edge in an effort to catch sight of his fallen brother. It was blacker than Odin’s arsehole down there and he could not see if there was a bottom. Thankfully though, since the hole had opened the previous ground tremors had subsided and the mountainside had returned to some semblance of tranquillity.

“Goren!” Sven bellowed down into the hole. “Goren, can you hear me, brother?”

“SVEN!!!” came Goren’s shrieking reply.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re still alive!” Sven shouted back at him. “Are you alright down there?”

“I fell down a fucking hole, Sven!” Goren responded non-too helpfully.

“Can you see anything?” Sven asked him.

“It’s fucking dark down here, Sven. I can’t see my nose on my face!” Goren called up in return. “Do you think it’s still there?”

“I’m sure it is, Goren!” Sven hollered back. “You stay where you are, okay! I’m going to find someone who can help!”

“Okay, Sven!” Goren replied. “But whatever you do, don’t tell him about the silver!”

Sven shook his head and scrambled back to his feet. He started his way back down the mountain.

He was in luck because as Sven was hurrying as fast as was safely possible down the mountainside, he came upon someone that was already on their way up. Unfortunately, that someone was Mord Liutson and he had been tasked by the merchant that Sven and Goren had robbed to go up the mountain and retrieve the stolen silver by any means necessary.

Ordinarily this was not the sort of task that Mord would undertake, but he had recently saved the life of this merchant from a troll. He had forced the merchant and a priest to feast upon the flesh of the vanquished troll as a form of punishment for their stubborn stupidity, but despite this the merchant had still been very grateful to Mord for saving his life and he had insisted that the warrior should pay him a visit should he ever find himself passing the merchant’s home. As luck would have it Mord had decided to take the merchant up on his offer at a time that coincided with Sven and Goren’s theft of the pelt pedlar’s silver. He had been busy in the dining hall taking advantage of his host’s hospitality when the merchant’s slaves had burst in to report the crime.

And now here he was, halfway up the mountain when a man, fitting the description of the thieves given by the serfs that had given chase, all but crashed into him in his haste to get down it.

Mord grabbed Sven by his shoulders and held him at arms’ length as he waited for the thief to catch his breath.

“What is it, man?” Mord demanded. “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“Oh, thank Odin!” Sven panted. “You’ve got to come with me!”

“Come with you where?” Mord persisted. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s my brother, Goren!” Sven continued. “He’s fallen down a great fucking hole that opened underneath him. The whole mountain shook and it just opened up and swallowed him!”

“Take me there!” Mord commanded and released his grip on Sven’s shoulders. “I will help if I can.”

Sven wasted no time in racing back up the mountain, the great warrior hard on his heels.

It didn’t take them too long to reach the rent in the ground through which Goren had fallen.

“How do you know that your brother is still alive down there?” Mord asked as he stood on the edge of the precipice and peered down into the blackness.

“He spoke to me.” Sven answered. “Unless it was his ghost it was definitely him and he’s definitely still alive. Goren is far too stubborn in the head to die simply because he fell down a hole into Odin’s shit pit!”

“You’re not too far from the truth there, lad.” Mord replied with a grim half smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sven wondered.

“Call to him, to see if he still lives.” Mord told him, ignoring the question.

“Goren!” Sven called down obediently. “Are you still alive down there?”

“I am, Sven!” came Goren’s reply. “Did you find someone to help?”

“That I did, brother!” Sven assured him.

“You didn’t tell him about the silver did you?” Goren called up.

Sven looked at Mord and Mord looked at Sven. Neither man saw fit to answer that particular question.

“Don’t worry.” Mord reassured Sven. “I’m not here for the silver, despite what I led my ‘friend’ to believe. I came up to help you two actually, because I know just how dangerous this mountain can be if you don’t respect it properly. Once I’m done here you can do what you like with your ill-gotten gains. Makes no difference to me. The man you thieved it from is a fool anyway!”

“What are you talking about?” Sven’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How do you ‘respect’ a mountain?”

Mord was unravelling a length of rope that had been wound across his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you if I make it back alive with your brother.” He replied cryptically as he tied one end of the rope off on a nearby tree stump that had somehow managed to take root on this otherwise barren mountainside. The other end he fastened tightly around his waist and then without any further words to Sven he jumped backwards over the edge and into the black abyss.

Sven looked on in horror as the rope began to rapidly follow its owner into the darkness, as quick as a serpent being chased by an eagle. He wondered whether he should take up the rope to try and slow the warrior’s descent, but before he could act on those thoughts the rope suddenly went taut.

“Are you alright down there!” Sven called anxiously.

“It’s alright. I’ve found your brother!” Mord called back up at him.

“There’s a great big bubbling lake of only Odin knows what down here!” Mord continued. “Your brother has been very lucky not to fall in it!”

“How the fuck can you see down there?” Sven wondered.

“I’ve had to get very used to seeing in the dark in my line of work!” Mord shouted back up at him.

“I’ve tied the rope around your brother’s waist.” Mord went on. “We’re coming back up now!”

Sven could only nod in relief. He cared little that Mord could not see the gesture from his position at the bottom of the abyss.

And then the ground started to shake again.

Down in the darkness Mord and Goren climbed faster.

Sven stepped away from the edge for fear that he may tumble in on top of his brother and the stranger.

As the mountain shook it was accompanied by what sounded like a loud booming, thunderous voice.

“AAAAAHHHHH!!!”

Sven looked about him, wondering where the terrible voice hailed from.

Was Odin himself trying to speak to him?

“AAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

“What is it, All Father? What are you trying to tell us?” Sven called out to the heavens.

“AAAAAHHHHHH!!!!”

“I’m listening, Lord Odin!” Sven continued. “Speak to me!”

“CHOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!”

Sven almost jumped out of his skin when the twin caves at his back erupted with a noise that was akin to that which would accompany the ejaculation of steam and water from a whale’s blowhole.

The terrified thief turned around at the violent sound and looked up as he saw what appeared to be the two chests of silver that he and his brother had hidden being launched high up into the air on dual geysers of putrid green ‘lichen’.

When the two chests made their inevitable plummet back towards the ground, Sven was dismayed to see that they were headed right for him. He just had time to dive to one side as the chests exploded their silver contents upon the mountainside and he was lucky to get away with only a few bruises as some of those hard coins struck him upon their ejection.

And then came the rain of ‘lichen’.

Sven was drenched from head to foot in the disgusting, green gloopy mess, globules of it seeping into his tunic and down inside his boots. The stench was like that of a goat that had eaten too much of its own cheese then shat it out again in a noxious explosion of rancid diarrhoea.

Sven was still retching and gagging from the ungodly stink when the heads of Mord and Goren appeared over the lip of the crack in the mountain. The ground was still shaking and the thief and the warrior hurriedly hauled themselves back onto the surface, just in time as the hole behind them snapped shut almost as rapidly as it had previously opened. Only a stray length of Mord’s rope protruded from a tiny crack, the only indication that the hole had ever been there. The quaking soon subsided once the gap had sealed.

Mord took out his seax and wasted no time in cutting the rope from around himself and Goren. He and Goren took one look at Sven’s pitiful state and fell against each other in a fit of hysterical laughter.

“Fuck off you pair of gnome’s tits!” Sven choked at them.

“Maybe you two will think twice before you stash your treasure up the nose of a sleeping giant in future?” Mord chuckled.

“A sleeping giant?” Goren parroted.

“That’s right.” Mord nodded. “You stuffed up his nose and he had to open his mouth so that he could breathe. That’s what you fell in, you stupid arse! You’re lucky that you were able to grab hold of something on your way down otherwise you’d have fallen right into his belly and that would have been the end of you.”

Goren was dumbfounded, perhaps for the first time in his life.

“Thank you for saving my brother, Mr…” and Sven realised then that he did not know the stranger’s name.

“The name is Mord. Mord Liutson. And you are welcome.” Mord smiled. “Forgive me if I don’t shake your hand.”

“I’m Sven and the stupid arse is my brother, Goren. We are forever in your debt, Mord.” Sven replied.

“Think nothing of it.” Mord waved his hand dismissively. “You can pay me back by buying me dinner with some of the silver that seems to be strewn about this giant’s head of a mountain, but, Sven?”

“Yes?” the thief wondered.

“You might want to have a bath first!”


End file.
